


Robes Like Hers

by LazyWriterGirl



Series: Femslash February 2017 - I Write Best When I'm Writing Gay [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: And Kills Gangrel, Because Poetic Justice, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Femslash February 2017, I Know I Need to Go Back and Edit All These Fic Just Let Me Have This, Lissa Fights Shit, Lissa Gets Promoted, Lissa and Sully Because I Felt Like It, Prompt Fill, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9927848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyWriterGirl/pseuds/LazyWriterGirl
Summary: “You might not be good at the mushy stuff but you’ve made me feel a lot better.”“That’s my job, right?”“Yeah. Thanks, Sully. I love you.”“I love you more, Liss, and it’s got nothin’ to do with your new robes. But you knew that.”Or, Lissa is promoted, but finds that with new power comes fresh remembrances of a loved one unfairly lost. Thankfully, her fiancée is there to provide the solace she seeks.Femslash February 2017 Prompt 8/12 - Robe





	

She knows that it’s fine to be scared, but she doesn’t want to be.

They’re only a day’s march away from where the final battle with the Mad King will be held, and Lissa is afraid of what lies just ahead. Not so much of the fighting—she’s been surrounded by fighting ever since she became a Shepherd—but of what could happen. Who they could lose. She knows that there’s always a chance that things will end up badly for them, but…she believes in her brother, and in Robin, and in the Shepherds. And she believes in Emmeryn and what she stood for—what her memory still stands for.

Taking a shuddering breath, Lissa banishes the sad thoughts from her mind as she loosens the ties from her hair. She is not sure if she is pleased to be alone in her tent, but that is how things are. Her fiancée has yet to return, and Lissa is well aware of the other woman’s strict training regimens; late nights are to be expected.

“So…one of the bandits was holding one of those strange seal-things, and Robin decided that she wants you to have it.”

“S-sully!” Lissa startles at the sound of her fiancée’s voice. She turns, surprised to see the taller woman holding the seal in her arms already, prepared to offer it to Lissa right here in their tent. The light padding that Sully wears for her night-time training routine—the same rich red as her paladin’s armour—looks damp from sweat, but all Lissa can see is the gold-and-red in her fiancée’s hands. “Shouldn’t Robin be giving that to someone like Cordelia or Lon’qu or… _anyone_ else?”

Most of the Shepherds are better fighters than her, their skills more valuable than Lissa’s. So many more of their comrades are more deserving of a promotion; again, Lissa’s mind returns to Cordelia, or to Lon’qu, or to Sumia or Virion. They’ve all done so much, have defeated so many enemies, have put their lives at risk time and time again.

All that Lissa has done is run about with her staff, and while it is true that her role is one of importance—of keeping her comrades _alive_ —she cannot help but think that Maribelle has borne the brunt of this task, too concerned with keeping Lissa safe on the back of her horse to offer Lissa the chance to use her stave more than once or twice in every skirmish. Lissa thinks that it would be selfish to take the promotion, but she doesn’t think to say so to her fiancée, who watches her with those tough soldier’s eyes.

 “No. Chrom, Frederick and Robin were all talkin’ about it earlier. They want _you_ to have this, Liss …and besides, I think it’s high time that you have something to defend yourself with.” Sully fiddles with the seal a little, tapping against the thin sheets of gold in an idle rhythm. “Robin told me about how you wanna be by my side when we face off against Gangrel…and I have to know that you’ll be able to fight back in case I’m distracted or somethin’.”

Lissa studies the face of the woman she loves—and gosh, isn’t that something, that she’s fallen in love at a time like this—and all that she can find is Sully’s care for her, her worry; her determination to keep Lissa safe. She wonders now if it would be more selfish of her to deny the seal than to accept it. She wonders what Emmeryn—though thinking of her sister hurts so very badly—would say to her. Emmeryn had never wanted Lissa to have to fight, she knows, but she _had_ mentioned something about Lissa’s potential for magic, about Lissa’s potential for strength.

 

Emmeryn had often said that one day, Lissa would be strong enough to defend all Ylisse, if she so chose.

 

If she takes the promotion, if she becomes something more than just a simple cleric, will she be able to fulfill the promise of her sister’s words? Lissa thinks that it would be best to try. “Okay,” she says, staring at the seal with poorly masked fear on her face. “I’ll accept the promotion, Sully…but _only_ because I know you won’t let me fight by your side unless I do. I want to keep you safe.” _And I want to prove I can be who Emm wanted me to be._

Sully smiles at her, more out of relief than anything else, then says. “Robin told me to tell you you’ve got a couple choices. You could be a war cleric, like Libra, or you could be a sage, like Miriel. Either way, Robin says she’ll have a weapon ready for ya by the time we march on Gangrel.”

Sully holds the seal out to Lissa, who reaches for it with shaking hands. The axe or the tome? She knows that she is not much in the way of physical strength, so really, the choice is obvious. As if agreeing with her, the seal flashes in response. Sully stands back, though not so far that Lissa can’t make out the mild concern in the woman’s eyes, and she attempts a smile.

 

Lissa is afraid of so much, but she wants to do this.

She can do this.

 

And, she thinks as she feels the warmth of the seal wash over her, it’s fitting that she should honour her sister this way; should follow in her footsteps as the Shepherds march to bring down the man who’d caused Emmeryn’s death.

When the warmth disappears, Lissa feels…stronger. More in tune with her magic. Faster. Just…better. And as she opens her eyes to meet Sully’s impressed gaze, that feeling only intensifies. As she watches Sully watching her, Lissa notes a change in her fiancée’s demeanour. Sully is looking at her, but it feels like she’s seeing something…else. “Oh, Lissa.”

“Do I…look weird?” Lissa fiddles with the ends of her hair.

“It’s…it’s not that. Hold on, babe,” says Sully, and she takes Lissa’s hand, pulling her over to the standing mirror—the only real luxury that Sully has allowed herself. The taller woman places Lissa in front of the mirror, standing behind her as if to steady her, and she doesn’t say a word. Just looks pointedly at their reflections in the mirror. Lissa is confused as to the other woman’s motivations, and she’s about to ask why they’re standing here when she sees it.

 

Only for a split second, but she sees it.

 

Sees echoes of Emmeryn in the new robes that adorn her body, in the folds of cream and gold and pale green. She turns to Sully, clutching at the woman’s arm to steady herself. “I’m not just making this up in my head, right? You see what I see?”

“I think that you take after Emmeryn even more than you’d thought, Liss,” says Sully, wrapping Lissa up into a tight hug. “And I know that you’re scared, but you’re gonna be great out there. I know you will.” Sully laughs gently, rocking against Lissa with every rise and fall of her chest. “And you’ll have my sword at your side.”

Lissa sighs, allowing herself to sink into Sully’s warmth. “I hope that you’re right.”

“I’m right about a lot of things, ya know. Especially when it comes to you.”

Lissa smiles as Sully leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. She’s still afraid, but, as she takes one more glance at her reflection, at the green and gold and cream of her robes against the deep red of Sully’s gear, she feels a little better.

She might not have been able to save her sister—and gods above, if that won’t haunt her for the rest of her days—but she still has a brother who loves her, and a fiancée who believes in her, and friends who would give their lives to avenge her sister; she won’t fail anyone ever again.

 

Lissa runs a hand over the detailing on her robes and smiles.

She’s scared, but she’s going to try, for Emmeryn’s sake.

For everyone’s sake.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The first man she kills is a Plegian foot soldier, a young myrmidon with eyes that show nothing but hatred as he raises his sword against her fiancée, whose back is turned, surveying the scene. Lissa’s shout alerts Sully to the danger, and the paladin manages to avoid a swipe of the myrmidon’s sword before returning the blow with one of her own, but it’s the bolts of thunder bouncing off Lissa’s fingertips that ultimately strike the man down.

Lissa feels a pang of revulsion at herself, but she cannot feel guilty for doing her job as a Shepherd. She cannot feel guilty for protecting the woman she loves.

The tome nearly drops from her hands—she’s holding it just a bit too tightly—and she looks down at her fingers.  They’re bright red and raw from the usage of so much elemental magic. She’s only ever _healed_ others…now there’s blood splattered against her robes and it’s because she’s killed a man.

Her hands are shaking.

She’s no soldier.

“Are you alright, Lissa?” Sully yells, struggling to be heard above the din of battle as her horse stamps agitatedly against the dry earth.

Lissa tries for a smile, settling for a swift nod of her head when the gesture fails. “Let’s go, Sully!”

Together, they charge back into the fray. Sully positions them carefully, with Lissa perched on the back of her horse, ready to hop off and cast a spell at a moment’s notice. They stay on the outside of their enemies’ range—as per Robin’s orders—making sure not to put themselves in any unnecessary danger. Gangrel calls taunts out to Lissa’s brother, but Lissa is not as afraid as she once was. Her brother trusts Robin’s tactics more than his own instincts, which is good, because it means he will not rush headlong into danger. That, and the fact that he rides with Maribelle, assures her that Chrom will be safe.

 

She wouldn’t want to lose another sibling.

 

“Where should I stab ya?” Sully taunts as she sends her javelin flying towards a barbarian. Lissa follows her fiancée’s attack with one of her own, and they down the man before he can throw his hand axe at Sumia, who’s escorting Gaius towards one of the chests Gangrel has left about the battlefield. Everything is happening so quickly that Lissa can barely see, but she manages to concentrate enough to protect Sully from an Elwind spell that had come out of nowhere. Gaius cuts down the mage who’d cast it and gives them a quick nod before hopping back onto Sumia’s pegasus, eyes focused on the chest.

 

Soon, Lissa’s hands are leaden and cold from the effort of firing off spell after spell, but she does not stop. Instead, she pushes herself as far as she can go, and then further still. She won’t fail Robin or Chrom. She won’t fail Sully. She’ll live up to Emmeryn’s legacy, some way or another.

 

They wade through Plegian soldiers, assisting their allies where they can. Lissa’s Mend staff breaks, but the Heal staff Robin had bought for her has yet to see any use, and though it is not as powerful, Lissa’s magic bolsters its effects. Sully is nearly killed, trapped between two wyvern riders and their axes, but somehow, they make it out. They reach an old fort and take shelter, and it isn’t until Sully is almost completely slumped over in her saddle that Lissa notices how tired her fiancée looks. “Sully, what’s wrong?!  Are you still hurting somewhere?”

“No, Lissa, but my javelin is close to breaking. We need to end this soon,” Sully says. “My sword won’t last me very long now, either but it’s got enough kill in it to see this through. Where’s Chrom? Robin said he’d be headed towards this fort. Can you see him?”

Lissa peeks out of the fort, and sure enough, she can see her brother some ways off, with Maribelle. They’re surrounded by enemies and her brother has blood running from a gash on his leg, a deep cut rendering his left arm nearly useless. Maribelle watches helplessly, but Lissa knows that her friend cannot risk herself. She has no weapons and her staves have all broken, and Lissa is immediately sent into a panic at the sight of an axe just barely missing Maribelle’s face. “They’re surrounded, and they’re too far! I won’t be able to signal them from here!”

Sully grins, “Don’t you have a Rescue staff, babe?”

It only takes her a second to realize that yes, as a matter of fact, she does have a Rescue staff. She’d forgotten about it amidst the rush of the battle. Lissa peers out towards where her brother has just blocked an arrow meant for Maribelle’s chest, and she shudders. She wants to save them, but they’re so far from the fort. “I don’t know if I can reach them,” she says, lamenting her inexperience. Her uselessness. Her hands clench around fistfuls of her robes—robes she does not deserve to wear—until Sully’s hand meets her own.

“I know you can do it, Liss.”

Sully’s eyes are so earnest, so strong, and Lissa nods despite herself. She’s afraid, but she’s fighting through it, because she must. Because this is for the future of her people. This is for Emmeryn and her legacy.

“O-okay,” she says, strengthening her resolve. Something in the back of her mind tells her that she should just give up, that she’s not strong enough, but she pushes the thought aside and summons her magic to the fore. She’s not _delicate_ , after all, and she can do this. Lissa raises her staff, hoping and praying that her magic will be strong enough to fetch her brother and best friend, and within seconds Chrom and Maribelle are warped to their side.

Sully pulls them into the fort. “Chrom! Where’s Gangrel?”

“Headed here,” Chrom says, gasping the words out. Lissa is at her brother’s side in an instant, raising her Heal staff. “Ah, thank you, Lissa.” He still doesn’t look too well, but he’s trying. Still fighting.

“I’ll stay with him, darling,” Maribelle says, “But I don’t think he’ll be able to defeat Gangrel in this state.”

“Sully, please,” Chrom says, “Help Lissa…avenge our sister.” He groans, clutching his stomach, and Lissa presses her staff into Maribelle’s hands. Maribelle clutches it, preparing the spell, but the fatigue in her eyes is concerning.

There’s no time to be concerned.

“I will, Chrom,” says Sully, but Lissa can see just a little bit of fear in her fiancée’s eyes. It’s quickly covered up with rage. “Lissa, let’s go!”

“Right!”

 

 

 

Gangrel sneers as she and Sully approach. “Where’s the little princeling?” He makes a show of overturning a rock, stomping his foot against the insects he finds crawling underneath. “Am I undeserving of a more worthwhile opponent?”

“You’ll face me,” Lissa says, and she’s surprised that her voice should sound so strong though the fear has risen to her throat. “I’m going to avenge my sister, Gangrel!”

“Sister?” the man’s eyes—they look _dead_ , Lissa thinks—rake over her, and she feels distinctly uncomfortable as he cackles. “Ah, you must be the smallest princess! And look at you, playing at a hero in robes _just_ like hers!”

Lissa flinches.

“Shut the hell up ya damned monster!” Sully roars, but Gangrel only continues to laugh. The cruel sound pierces through the air.

Lissa has had enough. “Now or never, Sully!”

Sully nods, giving Lissa’s hand a squeeze as Lissa hops off the back of her horse, stepping in front of the paladin. This is her fight.

The Mad King stares down his nose at her, cruel laughter still on his lips. “You die here, child! You and that mewling kitten of a guard behind you! I will kill all who’d dare remind the world of who the exalt was!”

Gangrel raises his Levin sword, pointing it at her, and though the resulting bolt of lightning stings against Lissa’s skin, it does not kill her. She raises her hand in retaliation, sending a spell hurtling towards the Mad King, who only seems to laugh as it hits his chest. _I’m not strong enough_.

“My turn.” Sully says, surging forward with her demon-horse and her javelin. She manages a solid strike against the Mad King, but Gangrel does not fall. There is blood everywhere. Lissa watches Sully toss the shattered pieces of her javelin aside in disgust, pulling her steel sword from its scabbard. Their eyes meet, and Sully nods, even manages a wink.

Gangrel is howling now, cursing her to the high heavens, but Lissa stands firm in the face of his rage.

“Curse you to blazes, Ylissean scum! _DIE!_ ”

He lifts his Levin sword, and this time the blow nearly rends her apart, but Lissa remains standing, leaning against Sully’s horse as she tries desperately to scourge up enough energy for another spell. The battlefield swims before her eyes, but she cannot fall here. She must not fall here.

“It’s over for you, Ylissean whelp!” Gangrel cries, preparing to strike once more. “Your brother should never have sent a weakling like you; now he’ll feel the pain of losing yet _another_ sister!”

Lissa grits her teeth. This will be her final chance. One of them will die, and it will not—it must not—be Lissa. She can feel Sully behind her, tense, and she lifts her hand, preparing to unleash what little magic she has left. “I may surprise you!”

 

The look on his face as her spell catches him in the chest is surprised, indeed. The healer in her knows that she has killed him as he sinks, headfirst, upon the scorched earth. The deadness in his eyes appears more and more fitting as she looks on.

“Fool of a princess…” Gangrel says, spitting words laced with blood, “You think this changes anything? The people care not for you…you are but an echo of…her…and you will die…as I die now…alone.”

It is as though the words have pierced her through, and for the first time, Lissa looks down upon her robes and sees the blood and grime. She has killed so many today—including Gangrel himself—and her hands are shaking and cold. Would Emmeryn have wanted this for her? What would she have said?

“You did it babe!”

Lissa does not know what to feel as Sully pulls her up onto the back of her horse. She does not speak even when Chrom and Robin chant her name, as scores of their comrades cheer for Princess Lissa, the King-slayer. Under the gentle heaviness of her robes, she shivers. She is cold from sweat and fear, and though the battle is over her hands do not still.

 

But they have won.

 

All is well.

 

Now healing can begin.

 

At least, this is the message of the speeches made later in the night, as the celebrations begin in earnest. Everyone has shed their bloodied clothes and managed to come up with half-decent looking outfits—mostly training gear and the odd coat. Some, like Lissa, have changes of clothes that are appropriate for the celebrations—at least, she hopes that her yellow dress is fine. Others, like Sully and Cordelia, have merely polished their armour.

Foot soldiers stand before the table she shares with her brother and Robin and Frederick and Sully and a few of the other Shepherds—she does not turn to see who—and they all bear praise for her bravery and her strength on their lips. They pledge loyalty not only to her brother, but to her, and Lissa smiles and tries her best to act the way she knows they need her to.

It is…harder than she’d thought.

Only Sully seems to notice—though Robin watches her carefully throughout the night, as well—and when Lissa has had enough of the pretending she excuses herself, citing fatigue, and only Sully follows her. They manage to make it to their tent before Lissa collapses into tears, and Sully, the woman who’s promised Lissa their lives, the woman Lissa is going to marry, collapses to the floor of their tent with her. Holding her up. Holding her together.

“Crap, Liss, what’s wrong?! Are ya hurt somewhere? Should I get Maribelle or Miriel or—

“I’m f-fine,” she says, pressing against Sully, whose armour is a comfort to her despite it’s toughness. “I just…”

“Don’t tell me that what that maggot-king said bothered ya,” Sully says, stroking Lissa’s hair in a nonsensical pattern that soothes her nonetheless. At Lissa’s answering sniffle, Sully pulls back just a bit, so that she can look Lissa in the eyes. “Aw, come on, babe. You know he was just trying to upset you!”

“Well it worked!”

“…Damn. You’re real worked up about this. What’s wrong?”

Lissa is quiet for a moment. She knows she can’t lie to Sully, not about _anything_ and especially not about things like this. “I just…”

“Liss…I’m not so great at the mushy stuff, and you know that, but if something’s botherin’ you, I want you to tell me, ya know?”

Sully looks even more earnest now than she had on the battlefield, and Lissa cups the other woman’s face with her hands, kissing her gently. She doesn’t know why. She just wants to. “I know. I love you.”

“Love you even more,” Sully says, grinning even though she’s still concerned. “Now…do you wanna talk about what’s botherin’ you?”

At first, Lissa shakes her head. She doesn’t know what she could say, doesn’t know how she can explain it, but she has to try. She’s done so much in the last few days, so much that she’d not once thought she’d ever be able to do once-upon-a-time,  so surely, she can do this. Can tell Sully that she’s afraid of cheapening Emmeryn’s legacy. Afraid of the weight that makes her sage’s robes feel layered down with expectations that she cannot hope to meet.

“What if I never become more than Emmeryn’s shadow?” she asks.

If Sully is surprised by how forward that is, then Lissa is even more surprised.  “What makes you think anybody looks at you that way?”

“You didn’t see the way the soldiers looked at me…the way _Gangrel_ looked at me,” Lissa says, letting every, every fear from the last twenty-four hours comes rushing back up to the surface. “That’s all I am to them, really. I’m only Emmeryn’s shadow, just Chrom’s little sister…” she pauses, breathing through her nose, “Ever since I got that promotion and put on those robes, it’s like people expect so much _more_ from me and I can’t…I can’t keep up! What am I even doing here, Sully?”

Sully sighs, and if she’s aggravated, Lissa can’t blame her. It must be hard for the other woman, having to deal with her. “Look, Lissa, like I said, I’m pants at the mushy stuff…but you’ve gotta hear this, and I’m the only one around so I’m the one who’s going to tell you.” Sully clutches her so tightly that it almost hurts. “You’re so much more than your sister’s shadow, or your brother’s sibling, okay?  If people expect more from you, it’s because you’ve already proven yourself once, and now they wanna see you outdo yourself. You can keep up. Heck, _you’re_ the one who beat Gangrel, babe!”

“But you helped me.”

“Yeah, and I’d have been mad as hell if you’d tried to fight him without me,” Sully says, squeezing Lissa a bit more tightly. “Look, just because you wear those robes doesn’t mean you’re trying to be just like Emmeryn, okay? Sure, you’re following her footsteps, but your path is your own.”

Lissa likes the sound of that, and as she snuggles into Sully she says, a bit under her breath. “You might not be good at the mushy stuff but you’ve made me feel a lot better.”

“That’s my job, right?”

Lissa toys with the ring on her finger. “Yeah. Thanks, Sully. I love you.”

“I love you more, Liss, and it’s got nothin’ to do with your new robes. But you knew that.”

Lissa smiles.

She knew that.


End file.
